


kissy face

by ryoasukadidnothingwrong



Series: how relationships develop [2]
Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: 80s characterization, First Kiss, M/M, and ryo is oblivious, everyone thinks they're dating, it's really awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 07:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14100375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryoasukadidnothingwrong/pseuds/ryoasukadidnothingwrong
Summary: "you know, how people think we're together.""huh?"(or how teasing can cause late night first kisses)





	kissy face

**Author's Note:**

> yes here we are again. this could stand alone, but i imagine it's in the same universe as the last fic, puff puff pass. have fun!

miki yawns in the doorway of akira’s room. she rubs her eye with one hand and bears yet another bowl of popcorn in the other as she shuffles towards the bed, carefully picking through the mess in the dark with the tv screen lighting her way. “got more snacks,” she manages through another long yawn, setting the bowl down on akira’s lap and curling up at the foot of the bed. “oh man,” she peeks at the alarm clock on the nightstand and fights the urge to close her eyes, “i don’t know how you guys stay up this late.”

“practice,” akira smiles down at her, then sticks his face in the bowl to earn a  _ hey! _ and a shove to his shoulder from miki. he laughs at her around the popcorn in his mouth and she smirks as she grabs a handful out of the bowl for herself. she lays down again, facing the tv and whatever the hell was on adult swim at this hour, her hair brushing akira’s knee.

akira pats her head and feels his eyelids giving up on him a little more. he sighs and gently lays his head on ryo’s shoulder, who doesn’t waver from his task at hand. his notebook lays open in his lap and supplementary papers are tactically littered around akira’s bed, creating a craze of color and code that akira was just beginning to understand after all these years. he watches ryo write, scribble, change his mind and cross things out. it fascinates him to see ryo’s imagination at work, so complicated and full of ideas and too fast for mere human handwriting to keep up. ryo could be a doctor with that chickenscratch. ryo could be anything.

_ awww _ , miki coos, a sound so high and loud that it startles the both of them for a second. “sorry, it’s cute!” she giggles and wiggles her eyebrows. “seeing you look at him like that.”

ryo’s hand falters and he makes a face before shaking his head and going back to his notebook.  akira softly punches her in the shoulder. “what’s that s’posed to mean?”

“you know,” she pokes his knee and reaches for some more popcorn. he moves to dump the whole bowl on her head, and miki panics and nearly falls of the edge of the bed grabbing his wrists to stop him. her legs flail to catch her balance in her laughter and some of ryo’s notes fall to the floor.

“hey, hey,” ryo sighs and rubs his eyes under his glasses. akira gives the bowl to miki and reaches for the colorful papers. “and what’s this about bein’ cute? am i also s’posed to know?”

miki lets out a  _ ha! _ and akira settles back down with the notes and elbows him in his side. “you know, how people think we’re together.”

akira flips through the papers to get a peek at their new  _ dungeons and dragons  _ campaign plot before ryo snatches them out of his hands to keep the secrets hidden. he squares up the edges and tucks the papers behind some others, fingers tingling from brushing akira’s. he clears his throat. “huh?”

“nah,” miki drawls, “they think you’re fuckin’.” she pauses to swallow her mouthful of popcorn. “and so do i.”

in the dark, ryo’s eyes go wide. he idly clicks his pen and tugs at the hem of his pajama shirt, thinking, processing. the cogs in his brain struggle to see himself outside his own little world, the one filled with conspiracies and cars and demons and akira and himself, occasionally interrupted by miki. there was no room to reflect. there was no room to consider what others may or may not be thinking. or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit. a fuck.  _ fuck _ . he looks at akira and his imagination flickers, remembering he’s on the boy’s bed. “really?”

akira’s shoulders slump, mouth hanging open a bit. he throws up his hands and looks from miki to ryo in disbelief. “wh--oh my-- _ ryo _ .” 

miki laughs at him and ryo feels his ears burn. he frantically takes inventory of all his interactions with akira. there were the parties and the late nights and the driving him to school, the lending him his clothes and the mysterious disappearances that sometimes lasted for days. that doesn’t seem too bad. 

ryo’s imagination fills in the gaps. all of them. every  _ single _ gap. fuck. “r-really?”

akira sighs and crosses his arms, stares at the ceiling. “well,” he says, just a little offended, “guess you don’t really talk to anyone from school anymore, huh.” ryo idly shakes his head. he forgot about all those people. they were just ghosts anyway, floating along the edges of his world. he hardly remembered any of the specters akira introduced him to as his friends, let alone his classmates. don’t really see the point. he would see none of them ever again in his post-dropout life. and he felt good about it.

“anyone bother you about it?” he asked, remembering how much akira cried as a kid. such an easy target for those high school assholes.

akira shrugs. “nah, s’fine.”

“i give him shit for it.” miki picks up her head for more popcorn and to grin at ryo. “for  _ denying _ what i know to be true.”

ryo glares at her. “don’t spread rumors.” he lays a protective hand on akira’s thigh and leans toward her and her smug smirk. “or imma take him with me to peru ‘n never come back,” he spits back with a little more venom than he meant to. miki’s smirk just grows, and by the time he realizes what he suggested, she’s won.

“shit like that,” she pats akira’s shoulder, “makes me sure you’re fucking.”

“we aren’t,” ryo jumps in a little too quickly, before akira can defuse anything. he readjusts his falling glasses and thanks the darkness for hiding the increasing color in his face. akira shakes his head and shrugs, mirroring ryo’s reply. miki squints her eyes and tilts her head at them both. the stupid boys.

she shrugs and reaches for more popcorn. “whatever. i still think you guys are a thing.”

“we aren’t!”

akira squeezes ryo’s knee, looking at miki. “if we were, wouldn’t i tell you?”

ryo’s blood reaches a boiling point in his face. the thought of akira and miki discussing him, discussing  _ them _ , almost puts her on his hunting list. he glares daggers at miki, the girl who thinks she knows him. knows akira. “if we  _ were _ , we would--we would--”

ryo growls and grabs akira’s face, pulling him towards him, crashing their lips together. it’s hard and hot but chaste, closed lips and noses bumping. akira’s cheek knocks into ryo’s glasses and his lips are salty from the popcorn and his face must be red too, because ryo’s fingers burn. the curls of akira’s hair tickle his cheeks and his forehead and akira softens just a little bit against him and ryo releases him, pushing him back, panting a little. akira stares at ryo, eyes wide and lips parted, hands limp in his lap. miki looks much the same, jaw slack and frozen where she sits, loosely clutching the bowl.

ryo quickly regathers himself as best he can and grabs his pen from where it fell in his lap and intently stares down at his notebook, shaking hands flipping through the pages until he finds where he left off. his own handwriting seems messier than usual and also blurrier until a tentative hand fixes his glasses and pushes some of his hair back out of his face, fingertips lingering near his ear. fuck.  _ fuck _ . let him die.

ryo dares to lift his eyes to look at the two of them. just enough, just a little peek through his lashes. miki covers her mouth with her hands, and akira--akira.

akira sits there in his pajamas, the ghost of a blush coloring his skin and his hair disheveled. his head is tilted a bit, and the soft light from the tv lends its glow to his exposed neck. a slight smile curves his lips, a little red and swollen from ryo’s sudden attack, and his eyes return to their gentle brown gaze, always comforting, always searching, deep and knowing everything ryo thinks before he says it, before he even considers saying it. soft eyes. forgiving eyes. grounding eyes. akira gently squeezes one of ryo’s hands.

ryo squeezes back, and akira knows what it means.


End file.
